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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28865085">In Silence</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Devil May Cry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftercare, Angst, Angst and Drama, Bottom Dante (Devil May Cry), Consensual, Creepy Fluff, Delusions, Demon Courting, Eventual Romance, Feelings Realization, Horror, Incest, M/M, Masochism, Mental Instability, Obsessive Behavior, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Slow Burn, Stalking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:59:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,471</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28865085</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Even without his demonic armor, Vergil remained inhuman and huge, his skin bluish and corrupted by pain and power. But he had stopped attacking Dante since Mundus' confinement. He was following orders in his ways, but now he had nothing. He simply saw the amulet as something that he had, too, and that made him feel somehow safe next to Dante.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dante/Nelo Angelo, Dante/Vergil (Devil May Cry)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>82</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>In Silence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>@layerdifference on twt!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bringing his brother to his shop was…easy. Vergil, his long lost brother, the boy that disappeared after what happened to Dante, Nell, and the others…was alive. But not doing well. Taking him away from Mundus' horrendous embrace was already something, but like everyone in that cursed Castle, Vergil was nothing but a puppet. Emptied, tortured to the point of forgetting himself, but not enough to make him completely calm and curious when presented with Dante's amulet. </p><p>Dante was able to not kill his brother, his wounds healing faster than him. Even without his demonic armor, Vergil remained inhuman and huge, his skin bluish and corrupted by pain and power. But he had stopped attacking Dante since Mundus' confinement. He was following orders in his ways, but now he had nothing. He simply saw the amulet as something that he had, too, and that made him feel somehow safe next to Dante. </p><p>It took weeks to make him understand they were brothers. Vergil used to be the smartest between the twins, always reading books, excelling at studying and art. Now he didn't even know how to speak or read. Dante took time to make him learn at least the alphabet and grammar, what he remembered of their lessons as kids, what he knew as a grown man. Even if emptied, Vergil was as usual a quick learner. Soon he was able to write down simple thoughts. </p><p>"I'm hungry." He would write. "I couldn't feel hunger before." </p><p>Dante would explain to him why. If the shop was always kept badly, it still had its cool vibes. Dante, though, actually started to use the damn kitchen. He liked a lot watching Mother cooking for them. Without realizing it, he had noticed he could prepare meals, actual good meals, instead of eating fast food and stuff like he used to. </p><p>Yet, he didn't really want to eat. He did join Vergil, but most of the food went to him. He was still poor as hell when jobs weren't kicking at his door. Therefore Dante gave priority to that big boy of his old brother. Vergil ate slowly, memorizing the different tastes. Dante would name every ingredient, replying to Vergil's vaguely curious questions. </p><p>Their conversations weren't long at all, though. It was like Vergil had a block, and after a certain point, he would stop writing only to detach himself even more. He wasn't good at expression, but when he went "puppet mode" as Dante named it, it was barely possible to make him understand he needed to go to bed. Dante noticed those attacks were mostly activated after a simple name, said by Dante. "Vergil". It would make his brother's mind hide somewhere dark, where Dante couldn't reach. And it hurt so much. </p><p>Eventually, to decrease symptoms of Vergil's traumas, Dante gave up to the name Mundus gave to him. Nero. </p><p>"Bro" and "Brother" were fine too, for some reasons. Dante preferred them, but it was weird when clients would come in his shop only to listen to Dante calling that thing, brother. </p><p>That's how they saw him. The humans or even Trish. A Thing. Not only because of his limited fluidity in movements, that also reminded them of a doll. But his look, no matter how well dressed he was, was terrifying. His blue eyes were almost as white as his sclera, the veins on his face and body still pulsating demonic blue blood. He was way too tall, and yet he seemed able to become one with darkness, only two bright red eyes announcing his presence. </p><p>When it was night, the bills needed to be paid off, and Dante's client stepped inside Devil May Cry, those eyes were always there. Behind Dante's back, as if an invisible Thing was leaning close to one of his brother's shoulders, watching, waiting. Dante loved how attached to him Vergil was. But he had a job and stuff to pay, too.</p><p>"Nero, behave. You're scaring the customer. I'll play with you later, 'kay?" </p><p>A very low hum. Distorted, before Vergil moved away in the form of shadows so fast the human eye couldn't follow. If not for that red gaze. </p><p>Occasionally, Vergil worked with Dante. He seemed to understand the value of money, and would help Dante to gather plenty of it. Dante didn't need much, but he worked his ass off for Vergil. He wanted him to appreciate human pleasures, from food to clothes, songs, and so on. Dante understood that even if mostly expressionless, Vergil was always listening and watching. Especially when he started to search for Dante's warmth. </p><p>"Play." He would write in his notebook. Dante didn't understand, especially when one day, Vergil took a job alone only to bring so much cash it made even Dante kinda emotional, considering how broke they generally were. It was clear Vergil held more demon blood than him, now. More stamina, and apparently, he could sense nests of demons from miles. He simply always remembered to give the humans a piece of paper and an address. Devil May Cry. </p><p>It was a way to make people know Vergil didn't act alone. That demons, entities, and such were handled in that shop. He was the perfect publicity for Dante's business and an incredible ally. </p><p>"Play." He would write. Vergil looked at his brother and tilted his head, waiting. </p><p>"Brother, money isn't for playing. I mean, yes, but I don't understand if you somehow learned about casinos and shit like that, or…"</p><p>Vergil shook his head. A low, slow growl got out of his throat. Dante was about to defend himself when Vergil moved his hand towards him and then stood still. Dante was desperate and massaged his temples as he put the money away. Vergil waited. </p><p>"Uh, wanna hold hands or somethin'?" </p><p>"Play." Vergil wrote in the air. And then returned to give his hand for Dante to take. It was big. Vergil always used black gloves, as he seemed to never like to expose his corrupted body too much. It was a cold touch. Dante felt as if his warmth was being sucked by Vergil, and it was fine by him. The demons, Mundus. They all hurt his brother so much. He was going to hunt for the rest of his life for that. Even if Vergil was there, they still lost everything and themselves because of having on their shoulders the crime of being who they were. </p><p>As Dante's thoughts got darker, they were interrupted when Vergil pulled and guided Dante to the center of the shop. Vergil always liked to touch, but that time the union made Dante blush. He was held like a lady to court through a ballad, and they did, they danced. Vergil knew his steps, Dante tried to follow. There was silence around them until Vergil's dark powers manifested, and the shop became possessed by the man's broken soul. </p><p>Dante started to hear it; the faint ballad song he could sometimes hear at the castle. Vergil had memorized it, and "played" with Dante, moving like when he was in battle, smoothly and precisely. </p><p>"Where have you learned this?" </p><p>Dante murmured. He didn't like that song; the cursed notes of a castle once happy, destroyed with slow and painful deaths. That whole place had to disappear especially to set free the souls trapped in it. But Vergil couldn't grasp that thought. He couldn't write, he couldn't talk. He didn't reply and moved Dante around with his delicate, enormous touch. </p><p>Play, Vergil wrote before. And Dante remembered their fights, the way Vergil would always push him away. At the time, he was the clingy one. Play, he had written. And Dante remembered the pain, the blood, the loneliness, Vergil's madness as he revealed his face to him behind his fucking bandages. </p><p>That demonic song yelled a despair Vergil didn't know it was there, replicating something that was left there thanks to his former master. Owner. It wasn't playing. It wasn't fun. </p><p>"Let me go," Dante murmured. Vergil stopped moving, tilting his head. Dante's heart dropped; he had no clue. But he couldn't take that farse anymore, no matter where Vergil learned to dance to a cursed song. It was easy to move away because his brother became black smoke, a single hum, with that baritone doubled voice before those two red eyes were what was left of Vergil's presence. The haunt stopped, and so did the music. Dante simply moved to his room, and not a word was given to Vergil. </p><p>Dante needed time. He could teach Vergil what the fuck he wanted, but he would always return there, mentally. In the Castle and not with him, in the present. </p><p>They kept living and hunting, sometimes fighting. Dante always ended up triggering, needing more speed and strength to keep up with Vergil. He had noticed he couldn't trigger anymore. Maybe it was because his state was between being a full demon, and not. He missed seeing his brother's beautiful demon form, blue, healthy skin, and energy. Yet there was still beauty in Vergil. Like in that ancient, possessed song, once used for beautiful parties. His brother was a decayed beauty, like an immortal Lord of a destroyed domain. </p><p>Again, without noticing, he was in Vergil's hands. The Beast hugged him like they were going to dance near their childhood house, a quiet place to use for battles. Weak demons often never approached them, feeling the stench of death that the twins would've delivered to them. It was foggy - was that one of Vergil's trick? Dante had noticed he could summon many of the Castle's tricks. His mind trailed to the memory of the fucked up, a foggy yard filled with demonic puppets, Dante remembered the thrill and the actual feeble fear of the unknown. He was often the only living and sentient thing in there, in that Isle of death. </p><p>Vergil moved his bluish, cupid lips. </p><p>"Play." He silently said.<br/>
"Like we used to." </p><p>Oh. Dante returned human, and his heart almost exploded. He watched his brother with pained eyes, wondering if he understood that no, they never danced together as kids. They never joined a party, nor Vergil never held him like that. Dante couldn't bring those words outside. They would've put Vergil's mind to sleep for a while. The truth would've hurt him. </p><p>So that's what was about. Not a farce, not some creepy twisted shit. </p><p>They were Delusions. </p><p>Dante moved a gloved hand to caress Vergil's hollow cheek. </p><p>"We danced a lot, yeah?" He whispered. Finally, after months, Vergil's eyes lightened up. He kept his dull expression, but he was reacting. </p><p>"Yes." He moved his lips. </p><p>"What else did we do, brother? I remember. But you never told me what you preferred the most." A gentle lie. Vergil fell for it because he wanted to. He couldn't and wasn't going to, face the truth of his time with Mundus. The tortures must've been atrocious if now, Vergil's mind was filled not of horrors but of fake memories. Cutting away what hurt. Not even recognizing the woman in the portrait that Dante kept on his desk. </p><p>Not even noticing Trish's identical face when she came around. </p><p>Vergil hummed. Then he spun Dante in an old-styled, elegant move. This time Dante smiled and laughed, his voice echoing in that dark night.</p><p>"Play, more." He said in silence. They played more. What? It was initially intimidating to see Vergil towering over him, hiding Dante's body like he was small or something. It was his damn brother being a giant. Vergil held Dante like a spouse when he kissed him. Dante froze, sinking his boots in the dirt a bit, trying to stabilize himself as he hugged his brother's neck. Gods. What the fuck. </p><p>Yet he didn't move. Vergil searched for his tongue, his own long and light blue, the tip pointy. He was so cold. But he tasted nice, between neutral and something vaguely sweet. Dante gagged when his brother intruded his throat, but he didn't move if not to reciprocate that slow, invasive act. His brother didn't know how to kiss, he was going out of fantasies - maybe the memories of humanoid demons, or worse, himself, kissing Mundus, and his own delusions. </p><p>Therefore Dante guided him, caressing his hair, the only part of him that didn't change. Even as kids Vergil had more soft, delicate hair. That was why he always held them back, to look cooler than Dante and different from him. </p><p>Vergil moved away with a sloppy sound, and avidly licked Dante's face, down to his neck. His shirt annoyed him, therefore Vergil started to bite Dante's flesh through the fabric, gnawing, demanding it to be taken off. </p><p>Dante moaned, and that made Vergil's embrace even more possessive. His hands traveled down, grabbing his brother's ass, searching for his sack despite his pants. It was too much. And the wrong place. </p><p>"Stop…" Dante breathed out. Vergil pushed a finger between plump cheeks enough to vaguely stimulate Dante's entrance. Gods. "Brother. Stop. Not in front of our parents." </p><p>It didn't matter. Vergil couldn't remember. He saw those cursed ground as something familiar, but nothing else. His teeth ripped through fabric and skin. Dante let out a pained, aroused sound that made Vergil's puppet body react like it was alive. Because it was, in a sense. Against Dante's thigh and stomach, an erection popped in Vergil's pants. It was fucking huge, too much. Vergil's gentle administration was replaced by the need for a union. Warmth. Love. Acceptance. </p><p>"Vergil, fucking stop!" </p><p>And the doll did. Dante realized later what he had said. No, no. He didn't want to hurt. </p><p>"Wait. No, I meant Brother. Nero. I meant-" </p><p>But Dante saw two red eyes on him, Vergil's mind shut into his own wonderland of madness. He became black smoke, making Dante fall in his back, and he was gone. Vergil would retreat in darkness at every attack, moving from the shadow of a desk to sea of black that the night could bring. </p><p>Dante felt Vergil's presence disappear. And only for once, he punched the ground as he covered his face, unable to not break down. Fucking up with Vergil was like playing with a delicate glass near the edge of a table. The horrendous fear of breaking his brother forever crept inside Dante, always. And he vented that fear there, so near to Eva's - the family, home, but far away from her gentle embrace.</p><p>Dante knew that if Vergil was going to die for good, mentally or physically, he would go insane. Fuck humans, fuck vengeance, fuck morals, fuck everything. Full of regret, Dante returned to the shop, that delicate sweetness still inside his mouth. </p><p>He wanted Vergil's cold embrace once again. He needed him, no matter what was at stake.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Gonna update as soon as I can. Hope you enjoyed!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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